This Is My Story
by Dragonchick101
Summary: My name is Ivy Rose McGregor. I'm a Taker...sort of. I didn't want to be one at first, and my dad didn't want me on their team either, but then we found out what they actually did, not what everyone thought they did. If you're brave enough to read about my troubled past, my painful present and my somewhat awesome future, then welcome. I'm Ivy Rose McGregor, and this, is my story.
**Salve puellās et puerōs! Well...another story that I have decided to start... For anyone waiting patiently for me to update any of my other stories, I am sorry that it's taking so long, but I have major writer's block, and I have been watching too much on YouTube and Netflix...**

 **Anyway, I saw Takers for the first time a few days ago, and was just really annoyed that A.J. died as he's my favourite character. Then again, my favourite characters usually seem to either die or have bad stuff happen to them...and my favourite characters are usually played by Hayden Christensen...does he have bad luck in movies or something..?**

 **Anyway, this is Takers with a twist...there's another member of the group...and also, A.J. lives. Yay! I know that people have done this sort of thing before, but no one will have done what I'm going to do...I think.**

 **I'm not going to tell you anything else, other than the fact that I don't own anyone in this story, except for my own fictional character, Ivy Rose McGregor. There will be people from real life, so if you don't recognise a character, it's because they actually exist.**

* * *

IVY ROSE'S POV

"Where's A.J.!?" I ask my friends. He isn't here with us. He must still be in the other room with the Russians, "Guys!?"

G looks at me with sorrow in his eyes. No. He can't be dead. He has to be alive! The A.J. I know wouldn't go down without a fight! He can't be...

Slowly, I lower myself to the ground, disbelief flooding through my body. Time seems to slow down, and I'm vaguely aware of bullets zooming past my head. For a moment I'm tempted to move my head slightly so that I will be with A.J. but I don't follow through with it.

All of a sudden I am brought back to real life by G shaking my shoulder. His mouth is moving, and I know that he's telling me something, but I can't seem to hear anything. I just sit there, staring into oblivion.

I don't know how much time has passed but when I am fully aware of my surroundings again, I find that the others have up and left. And without me as well!

I get up and go through to the room where the Russians were. They're all dead. Then I see A.J.

He's laying on his back behind one of the sofas in the room. His eyes are closed and his hat is on his chest. The guys must have done that.

I sit down beside him and grab his hand in mine, running my other hand through his soft, blonde hair. It's only when my vision starts to cloud that I realise that I've been crying. As my hearing starts to come back, I can hear police running down the hall, the footsteps heading towards this room.

The door - what was left of it anyway - bursts open, and three police officers walk in with their guns trained on me.

"Please!" I cry, my voice talking on a much more Scottish tone than usual because of what's happened, "You have to help 'im! You have to..."

One of the officers lowers his gun, coming over to me and taking A.J.'s wrist between his fingers.

"He can't be dead!" I whisper to myself, wrapping my arms around my legs, pulling them close to my chest, "He can't be!"

After what seems like forever, the officer turns to his co-workers and tells them to go do something. I don't hear what he says because I notice something: A.J.'s breathing. He's alive!

I don't notice that the police officer has been trying to talk to me until he presses a sheet of paper into my hand.

 _Your friend is alive, but only barely. We need to get him to a hospital right away to asses the damage and see if he can be saved. Your leg needs looking at as well._

My leg. I hadn't even realised that my leg was sore. I look down at it. My leg is bloody and has two bullet holes in it.

"Well that's a bloomin' pain in the rear," I mumble, poking my leg.

The policeman chuckles and offers his hand to help me up. I gladly accept and realise just how flippin' sore my leg actually is when I stand on it.

The other two men from before arrive with a stretcher and a paramedic, who starts to carefully move A.J. onto the stretcher.

When A.J. is properly secured to the stretcher, the policemen left it up, and carry him towards the nearest lift. I follow behind them, with the other policeman supporting me, as I can't put pressure on my left leg.

When we get off of the lift on the ground floor, we go outside where an ambulance is parked and both me and A.J. are put in the back of the ambulance.

Two paramedics are already sitting in the seats beside the bed that A.J. is being placed on, and I take a seat on the third out of the four seats.

Just as the doors are about to close, I hear a familiar voice calling my name, and I tell the paramedics to wait.

Moments later, a man appears at the doors of the ambulance. His soft grey eyes visibly flood with relief when he sees me, and I slowly stand up, making it easier for him to hug me.

"I was so worried about you sweetheart," he says, kissing my forehead.

The doors to the ambulance are closed, and we all sit down.

* * *

"I just want to talk to you Miss McGregor," the detective says for the fourth time.

When the ambulance got to the hospital, I was sat down in a wheelchair, and taken into the Emergency Room with A.J. The doctors were able to get the bullets out of both of us easily enough, and they sent us to a room in the ER ward. Thankfully, they allowed me and A.J. to stay in the same room, and they also allowed me to push the beds together so that I could lay beside A.J. whilst keeping my leg in a cast.

Several detectives had come and gone in the past three days, all asking me the same questions, and me never talking. I just sat there beside A.J.'s unconscious body, holding his hand in both of mine as I stared at the slow rise and fall of his chest, watching for any differences in his breathing.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" I finally say. The detective looks relieved that I had answered.

"I would just like you to tell me about what happened," he says in a calm voice, "Can you do that for me?"

"You wouldn't understand," I say, turning my head to glare at him.

"Then tell me everything," he says, not wavering under my intense glare, "Start at the beginning and tell me everything. I have time, and I won't mind."

"...I'll start from when I moved here, if you don't mind," I say eventually.

"And how long ago was that?" the detective inquires.

"Six months ago," I say in a monotone voice.

"Please start. I'll refrain from saying anything until the end," the detective says, opening a notepad and grabbing a pen.

"It started when my father decided that it would be easier for the whole family if we lived here instead of in Scotland..."

* * *

 **There we go! Chapter one finished! And it only took me half an hour! That's a new record!**

 **Anyway, the actual chapters will be longer than this one, and I hope that there will be lots of chapters.**

 **If you liked it, please favourite, follow and review, and if you want, you can check out my other stories.**

 **I have a poll on my profile about a possible YouTuber Hunger Games story, so if you're into that, then you can check that out as well.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this story, and this is Dragonchick101 signing out!**


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